4:22 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



was it a communication like that which tells one that 

 some one behind his back is watching him or^ that calls 

 at night in the misty woods of June to the trysting hun- 

 ter, Come come? Or was it that electric flash of plea- 

 sure from eye to eye that makes you feel and know that 

 some one you are talking to is pleased and pleases, and is 

 very like you, though he is a stranger ? Her heart almost 

 ceased its beating, when she saw him stand there in her 

 room, every nerve was conscious of his presence, and 

 throbbed, her ear heard his heart beating, her nostril de- 

 tected the scent of his person, her fingers seemed to feel 

 of his arm, the texture of his coat, and the fur of his cap. 

 Was it a dream ? Then, dear dream, stay forever. I 

 will not move, lest I affright you. No ! it was no dream, 

 for in a moment the figure moved it came nearer, laid 

 something down on the stand by the bed, and taking 

 up a lace sleeve- of hers that was lying there, put it in its 

 bosom, glided back to the window ; the moonshine 

 glinted on rifle and belt, and it was gone. 



Lou Jackson sprang to the table ; on it she saw a fan, 

 such as are only made in Florida, of the tail of the 

 roseate spoonbill, the head, with its broad bill, being so 

 fastened that it served as a handle. 



Years before she had told Mike to get her such a fan, 

 making some laughing promise if he succeeded. Had 

 he mutely claimed the promise ? She ran to the window, 

 and saw him following the path that led to the boat land- 

 ing. His pack was on his arm, his hound was following 

 him, he had gone. Where was the proffered promise ? 



